


a little kiss of heaven

by rangerhitomi



Series: gods and dragons [2]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dancing, Diffriding, M/M, Mutual Pining, Party, Pre-CFVGZ, Skipping Work to Make Out, Under 20 Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/pseuds/rangerhitomi
Summary: When the God of Cray inhabits the body of the guy you’re highkey in love with and asks you for a kiss, what do you even do?





	a little kiss of heaven

**Author's Note:**

> i had the thought "what if ibuki was too weenie to ask mamoru to hold his hand so he asks the god of cray to do it for him" and this happened

It wasn’t a date.

Mamoru reminded himself of this fact three, four, five, six times that day, just in case he _still_ somehow managed to convince himself to sit too close to Ibuki, or touch him playfully, or even--god forbid--try to hold his hand, because he was stupidly infatuated with him, with the person he considered his best friend, with his _boss_.

Tokoha had asked him why, once. She was the only one who knew, or at least, he hoped she was, and it was only because she must have seen the way he looked at Ibuki, or how he talked about Ibuki all the time. _It’s obvious,_ she’d said, matter-of-factly and without elaboration, _but you’re nothing alike, are you? Why him? What do you see in him?_

He couldn’t really think of the exact moment where he realized he had a thing for Ibuki. Maybe it wasn’t one moment at all, but a series of them, instances where Ibuki fretted over Mamoru’s safety, asked him with soft concern when the last time he’d slept was, invited him to dinner to discuss work and wound up playing Vanguard instead. Maybe those little moments of vulnerability, where Ibuki’s indifferent persona shattered and revealed someone who worried more for others than himself, who tried so hard to keep Mamoru’s job and life safe. Maybe those times where, faced with insurmountable obstacles, Ibuki had confessed to Mamoru that he feared he maybe wasn’t suited after all for the burdens that he had taken upon himself.

And throughout all of it, his passion and imagination shined through with the brilliance of the sun as they played Vanguard together, sometimes to calm their nerves, and sometimes simply to enjoy the other’s company.

Of course, it helped that Ibuki was ethereally beautiful, and as Mamoru entered Ibuki’s office to find him face down on his desk, asleep, he had to suppress the urge to comb his fingers through Ibuki’s long white hair.

_It’s not a date._

_It’s not a date._

_This is work. We have work to do._

“Ibuki?”

When he didn’t stir, Mamoru placed his hand on Ibuki’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. With a slight jolt and a gasp, Ibuki woke, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “Oh… Anjou. Sorry… what time is it?”

“Nearly four. The sound crew is starting to set up the stage.”

“Oh,” Ibuki said again, running his hands through his hair, “we’re running late, then.”

“The catering won’t be in for another hour,” Mamoru said, but Ibuki was too busy shuffling papers and smoothing wrinkles out of his shirt to reply.

“Where’s my deck… deck… here it is, where are my keys…”

Said keys were behind a pile of reimbursement papers. Mamoru picked them up and held them out. “Ibuki.”

Ibuki paused in the middle of shoving a stack of papers in a file folder. “Oh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Ibuki took the keys from Mamoru’s outstretched hand. “Ready?”

Of course Mamoru was ready; he was the one who was here to take Ibuki down to the branch gala to finish setting up in the first place. Ibuki, on the other hand, was rubbing his eyes, smearing his eyeliner with the back of one hand while scratching his hair with the other--succeeding in doing nothing but mussing it up.

Mamoru sighed. "Hey." He dug around in the inside pocket of his jacket for his eyeliner pencil and held Ibuki's face still.

"What are you doing?" Ibuki's voice held more than a hint of panic.

"Fixing your eyeliner." Mamoru leaned closer. "You've smudged it."

"It's fine." Ibuki tried to squirm out of Mamoru's hold, but Mamoru held the back of Ibuki's head still and pressed the pencil to the corner of Ibuki's eye. "Anjou, I swear to--"

"The event is going to be livestreamed across Japan," Mamoru continued, tracing the pencil along the edges of Ibuki's eyes. Ibuki wasn't one to do little wings the way Mamoru was, but it might look cute... "I'm not going to let you _look_ like you just woke up from a nap, Director Ibuki." Yes, he should go for the wings.

"Don't you even think about it," Ibuki warned, and when Mamoru smiled and looked into Ibuki's eyes, Ibuki averted his gaze. "Nobody cares what I look like as long as the event runs smoothly. That's why I hired you to be my assistant director."

"Oh?" Mamoru put the finishing touches on Ibuki's other eye and leaned back. Ibuki's shoulders relaxed an inch. "You hired my good looks to make up for your slovenly appearance? Here I thought you appreciated my organizational skills."

Rather than ignoring the jab and rolling his eyes, as Ibuki normally did when Mamoru made such comments, Ibuki blew out a breath and straightened Mamoru's broach. "We should go."

With a tiny smile, Mamoru let Ibuki lead the way.

* * *

 

The Association headquarters, normally empty on Saturday afternoons, was bustling. Last-minute preparations were underway for the Under 20 gala, the ending celebration for the biggest event, and by far the most stressful, Mamoru had ever directed. It helped, this time, having Ibuki run it with him; rather than disappear for hours at a time at crucial junctures _(Ryuutaro),_ Ibuki would pore over documents and requisitions and finances until he finished his work. It wasn't the healthiest way to manage stress, but then, Mamoru didn't have much room to talk; he simply did his best to help Ibuki get the work done quickly so they would both have time to take care of themselves.

Several people stopped them on their way down to ask where to put this or that, where to go, _six tables isn't enough for the drinks, who do we contact to put up another_ _._ To anyone else, Ibuki seemed his normal self, directing the early caterers to the kitchens to prepare and affirming that Team Striders would probably prefer literally anything to a bouquet of flowers during the awards ceremony, but Mamoru could see the strain in his eyes, the exhaustion etched in every part of his face.

He gripped Ibuki by the wrist and pulled him away, down a hallway leading to the washrooms and away from the noise. Ibuki leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Thanks," he said begrudgingly.

"You're not okay."

"We just have to get through this event and--"

Mamoru grabbed Ibuki's hand before he could rub his eyeliner off again out of habit. Ibuki's eyes snapped back open. "This isn't the end. We both know it. Onimaru Kazumi was only the first half of it--"

"I know," Ibuki interrupted, tugging his hand away. "I know, I'm very aware. I just, this feels like it's never going to end. It's one thing after another, crisis after crisis..." He hit the back of his head against the wall, a heartbreakingly pitiful look in his eyes. "I'm tired, Anjou. I'm so _tired."_

No one deserved to rest more than Ibuki. But he couldn't, and wouldn't, not as long as there was work undone, not until Ibuki could feel like his actions had finally made up for the sins of his past.

Mamoru wished he could help.

"Hey." He reached into his pocket again and pulled out the eyeliner and a handkerchief. "Go wash your face. Take as much time as you need, just stay in there on your own and breathe. I'll close off this washroom so no one interrupts you."

"Anjou--"

Mamoru shook his head. "When this event is over, you're coming over to my place. I'll make you some tea, we can play a couple of games of Vanguard. Whatever helps you relax. You can sleep over. We'll call off tomorrow."

"We have work to do."

"I don't care," Mamoru said firmly. "It can wait one day. It's not worth destroying ourselves over." _It's not worth watching you break down._

Ibuki opened his mouth, probably to argue, but at Mamoru's stern expression changed his mind. "Fine. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Satisfied that Ibuki was finally giving himself a minute to compose himself, Mamoru headed back into the fray.

* * *

 

With tables weighed down with drinks and hors d'oeuvres, the speakers set up, the music ready, Mamoru could finally sit down and breathe.

Only an hour left until the gala began, and he had never wanted a nap so badly in his life. He leaned his head into his hands and closed his eyes.

"Anjou."

"Please, just two minutes," he muttered.

"Anjou."

He snapped his head up, the word what half-formed on his lips. It died the moment he recognized Ibuki, who watched him with an oddly intent expression.

"Oh, it's... how are you doing?"

"I am well." Ibuki held out a hand. "I wish to talk with you."

This level of formality was uncharacteristic of Ibuki. Out of curiosity more than anything, Mamoru let Ibuki pull him to his feet. "Okay, about what?"

"Not here."

Ibuki turned on his heel, striding away with his right hand in his pocket. With hurried instructions for the people preparing the last-minute decorations, he followed.

They went back down the hallway from earlier, roped off by stanchions, past the washroom, into the dark.

"Ibuki, what--"

Ibuki answered his question by holding up his right hand, where a white sigil glowed, the three overlapping rings of Link Joker.

Mamoru took a step back out of instinct.

"Don't be afraid," Ibuki said.

"You're Diffriding him," Mamoru said shakily.

"With his permission. I'm sure you know who I am?"

The Diffriders were all units with particularly strong attachment to their Vanguards, the humans' avatars. For Onimaru, that was Shiranui. For Hoshizaki Noa, it was Chaos Breaker. Ibuki--well, there was only one person in the world with Ibuki's deck. The answer was obvious.

"Harmonics Messiah?"

Ibuki smiled. "That is correct."

Mamoru's body shook. Whether it was from concern that Ibuki had been Diffridden or the fact that Ibuki had been Diffridden by the guardian deity of Cray, he didn't know--maybe both--but he had to hold himself steady against the wall. "W-why?"

Ibuki's pressed his hand over his heart. "My Vanguard is stressed."

"I know that."

"So are you."

"There's a lot that's been happening recently."

"So I'm aware."

"Why are you Diffriding him?"

"He asked me to."

Mamoru had a hard time believing that. Harmonics Messiah may have been a protector of Cray, but the practice of Diffriding, as far as Mamoru had seen, was not generally a benevolent act. "And why would Ibuki ask you to take control of his body?"

Ibuki's eyes closed. Messiah remained silent for a moment before opening Ibuki's eyes again. "There are many things outside of his control, many things that cause him anguish. But there is one thing within his control, something that would ease a burden he has carried within him for many years."

"And that is?"

"Loneliness," Messiah replied simply.

Mamoru leaned against the wall. His brain was oddly foggy. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Kouji has been alone for a very, very long time." Messiah smiled sadly. "He hurt many people he once cared for. He feels immeasurable guilt, fearing to let himself get too close to anyone for fear of hurting them, too."

Despite having known Ibuki for a few years, there was so little Mamoru really knew about him; his past was shrouded in mystery. But they were friends, one of the closest friends Mamoru had ever been blessed with, and no matter what Ibuki might have done in the past, it was what he did now that Mamoru cared about. And despite Ibuki's efforts to keep things from Mamoru, it was done out of concern, not malice. Ibuki cared about him; that much was obvious.

“I hear each of Kouji’s prayers," Messiah went on. "He seeks guidance when he feels lost, yearns for comfort in his sorrow. I, despite being the Protector of Cray, can do so little to help him.” Ibuki’s hand touched Mamoru’s cheek. A simple gesture, but one that nearly collapsed Mamoru’s knees beneath him. Surely Messiah could feel his face burn at the touch, but they said nothing of it. “You, Anjou Mamoru, whose soul burns with love, have been there through his moments of doubt and have given him the comfort he needed to continue on.” Those fingers ghosted over Mamoru’s face, into his hair. Mamoru struggled to take in air; he was getting lightheaded. “You, Anjou Mamoru, whose soul burns with passion, have guided Kouji on the right path. His gratitude is immeasurable, as is his love for you.”

The words were a soft buzz in Mamoru’s ears. "L-love?"

"He loves you, very much."

“If he… if he really feels this way…” Mamoru’s voice shook. Embarrassing, to lose his composure in front of the man he longed to take in his arms; more embarrassing still it was to lose his composure in front of the Protector Deity of Cray. “Why didn’t he…”

“He was always afraid to,” Messiah said simply. “He let me in to voice his heart’s desires, knowing he would always lack the strength to breach the subject first. He decided to wait for you, until the waiting became too much, and he caved in on his own emotions.”

Mamoru pressed a hand to his forehead. Just a few hours ago, he'd been making his hundredth phone call of the day and prepping himself up for a night of _work_ , despite his heart telling him it wanted to enjoy the evening at Ibuki's side. And now this?

"Oh, God."

Messiah smiled again with Ibuki's face. Ibuki always had a beautiful smile, despite its rarity. “That is what I am, yes. Now, Anjou Mamoru, will you bestow upon Ibuki Kouji the honor of a kiss?”

No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. It was a dream, right? Granted, not a _bad_ dream, not even a little, but it couldn't be _real..._

Ibuki's hand touched Mamoru's face again. “It is, of course, only if this is what you want as well, Anjou Mamoru. Kouji does not want you to feel pain or guilt. He is content, with his feelings laid bare.”

It _was_ what he wanted. Their connection to each other was stronger than any connection Mamoru had ever had with another before, his feelings as genuine as any he had felt.

“He… he wants this?”

“Yes.”

“Then--” Mamoru pulled away. “I need to hear it from him.”

Messiah lifted Ibuki's eyebrows before smiling. "I see. Of course. But first, Anjou Mamoru... please take care of him. Look after my Vanguard until he has freed himself of his burdens."

"I will," Mamoru whispered, "and many, many years beyond that."

He allowed Messiah to wrap Ibuki's arms around Mamoru's shoulders in a gentle embrace. Then, a sharp intake of breath, Ibuki's body slumping against his. Mamoru caught him around the waist, keeping him on his feet.

"Ma...moru..."

Mamoru's heart jumped into his throat.

It was the first time Ibuki had called him by his given name.

"Yes," he whispered.

"I'm tired."

"I know." Having never been Diffridden himself, Mamoru had no basis for his assumption, but it must be exhausting to have one's body shared by a being from another world, especially when that being also happened to be a god. "We still have a little more work to do. And then..."

_He loves you, very much._

"We'll go back to my place," he managed, a lump forming in his throat. "And we can sleep."

Ibuki sighed against Mamoru's neck. It was warm. "That sounds good. I'm... if... if it's okay, can I stay like this for a moment longer? I need to get my strength back..."

"Of course." Mamoru smiled, for the first time that evening, content. "Take as much time as you need."

* * *

 

The gala went off without a hitch.

All of the food arrived on time, the audio system had no malfunctions, and even the finalists of the Under 20 were well-behaved. (For the most part. Kazuma and Chrono started bickering about whose fault it was when an emotional Taiyou burst into tears, but it turned out it was over how happy he was.) For once, Mamoru was able to collapse into a chair in relief as the party got underway.

This wasn't the end, Mamoru knew, but it was _an_ end, and he would take this as one more victory.

He was starting to doze off when the sight of someone standing nearby on the dance floor with a hand outstretched caught his attention.

Seeing Ibuki Kouji with a shy smile on his face sparked feelings anew throughout Mamoru's body, and he could have floated from his chair to meet him.

"I know you're tired, but... I thought we might share, well, a dance."

"I'd like that."

They both smiled as their right hands touched.

Mamoru led, his other hand around Ibuki's waist; Ibuki's hand rested on Mamoru's shoulder. He liked to dance, though it was clear Ibuki had never done so in his life--he kept stumbling over his own feet and Mamoru's feet and the floor--but he tried, and it was endearing nonetheless.

"You know," Mamoru said quietly, yet loud enough to be heard over the music, "I had feelings for you for a long time."

Ibuki closed his eyes for a second before realizing he couldn't have his eyes closed while dancing, and contented himself with smiling at Mamoru's shoulder. "I did too, I think, though I didn't know what it was for a couple of years. I just thought... you were a good person. I thought if I stayed close to you, it would help me become a better person, too."

"Did it?"

"I like to think so, at least a bit."

"That's good."

They swayed in silence for the remainder of the song, pulling apart only when it ended. The evening had barely begun, but Mamoru wanted to escape this with Ibuki.

Interesting, wasn't it, that this evening, which he swore was work and not a date, had turned into some kind of date after all.

"Hey." Mamoru led Ibuki toward the edge of the dance floor. "Don't look, but the kids are watching us."

"All of them?"

"Most of them."

"Hmph. Nosy little brats."

Mamoru laughed, a little too hard and a little too loud. "Well, I was going to ask if you... if you were still interested in..." He trailed off. It may have been on Ibuki's behalf, but Messiah was the one to ask.

"What, you're fine with saying no when a god asks you for a kiss but not me?"

Mamoru laughed again, quieter and more nervously this time. Knowing that this was what Ibuki wanted, and what he very much wanted, didn't do much to ease his nerves. "I wanted you to say it. I mean, I wanted it to be... to be with you."

That shy smile crept back onto Ibuki's face. He looked off to the side. "I... I would like that, too. I think."

The music started up again, but Mamoru weaved through the crowd toward the back exit, Ibuki close behind with his hand on the small of Mamoru's back. It was comforting, knowing he was there.

No one was outside; it was sunset and quiet, aside from the distant _thump, thumping_ of the music and the sound of people talking and laughing at excessive volumes from inside.

They drew close together.

"Thank you for being there for me, despite all the troubles... Mamoru."

Mamoru smiled as he tucked Ibuki's long hair behind his ear and leaned his face near to Ibuki's. "I couldn't possibly regret one second of it... Kouji."

Somehow, Mamoru knew there couldn't possibly be a more fitting setting to share this moment with Ibuki than in the warm orange glow of the setting sun.

And there, they kissed.

Slowly, gently, methodically; Ibuki had clearly never been kissed, and it showed in his deference to Mamoru, but he caught on quickly, the trembling mouth giving way to determination, returning the pressure with eagerness. There was cheap wine on both of their lips, tasting ever sweeter on their tongues; Mamoru threaded his hands through Ibuki's hair and Ibuki, through Mamoru's, combing through as they kissed and kissed and kissed, desperation and fear and insecurity melting away, the worries about what the next day would bring all but gone in the moment.

When they finally pulled away, Ibuki let out a shaky breath. "Oh," he said.

"Yeah," Mamoru breathed.

"Let's leave."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"What if they come looking for us?"

"What are they going to do, fire us?"

Mamoru's laugh was a little higher-pitched than he would have liked, but it made Ibuki smile so maybe it was okay. "You're the boss."

"Of course I am." Ibuki's smile widened. "Now, take me home, Associate Director Anjou Mamoru."

* * *

 

Chrono wasn't much of a dancer, but he humored everyone who asked.

Taiyou, being so short, struggled to move his feet to avoid Chrono's; Kumi dragged him around the dance floor like a rag doll; Luna had entirely too much energy; Tokoha was an excellent swing dancer; Kazuma was deceptively decent at slow dances; and Shion was, of course, incredibly elegant.

"You're getting better," Shion said into Chrono's ear over the music. "You've only stepped on me once in the past thirty seconds."

"Not all of us took ballet as toddlers, rich boy."

Shion laughed heartily. "Touché."

They swayed gently, Shion humming along with the orchestra, until Chrono was facing the refreshment table and completely lost his balance.

"Ow, foot, foot--"

"Sorry, sorry, is that, is that Ibuki and Mamoru?"

Shion followed Chrono's gaze to the edge of the dance floor, where Ibuki had one hand on Mamoru's shoulder and the other in Mamoru's hand as they swayed. It was an almost surreal sight, made more bizarre by the fact that Ibuki was smiling at Mamoru in a way that Chrono hadn't even realized Ibuki was physically capable of doing.

"Huh. Yeah, it is." Shion frowned contemplatively. "Interesting."

"Why are they, they're looking at each other like, why?"

Shion lifted an eyebrow. Where Chrono was bewildered, Shion seemed mildly amused. "Do you really want an answer to that question, or...?"

The song ended and Chrono pulled Shion off the dance floor by the hand, making a beeline for Tokoha, who was chatting with Kumi and Satoru.

"Hey, Tokoha. Hey."

Tokoha sighed loudly as she faced her former teammates. "I was in the middle of something."

"This is more important."

Chrono held her by the arm and turned her until she faced the refreshments table.

They weren't dancing now, even as a new song started up, but leaned close to talk; Mamoru seemed to ask Ibuki something and, after looking away with a tiny smile, Ibuki nodded. Ibuki let Mamoru lead as they slipped out of the building through the back exit, Ibuki's hand on the small of Mamoru's back.

Tokoha stared at the door, face unreadable.

"They're _really good friends_ now, huh?" Kumi piped up, taking Tokoha's glass from her before she dropped it, and the implication was not lost on anyone else.

"Really? They seem like more than friends to me."

Anyone except Satoru, apparently.

Tokoha made a strangled noise in the back of her throat as she covered her eyes. "I knew Mamoru had... but... I didn't know..."

"What are you going on about?" Chrono demanded, hands on his hips.

Shion placed a hand on Tokoha's shoulder and patted her. "I think they deserve... some rest, don't you, Chro-nnn!"

Tokoha dug her elbow deeper into Shion's ribs. "Some images don't deserve to be dwelt upon, _Shion_."

Satoru stared into his wine glass. "I don't really understand what's happening right now."

"That's okay, Enishi-chi!" Kumi plucked the glass from his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor. "It's probably better not to!"

Shion, Tokoha, and Chrono stood alone in silence for nearly half the song before Tokoha reached for the glass that Kumi had placed on the table.

"You know, I'm happy for him."

Chrono looked around in surprise, but Shion just smiled.

"Who, Mamoru?"

Tokoha nodded. "He's had a bit of a, a crush on Ibuki for a while."

 _"What?"_ Chrono couldn't imagine what qualities in Ibuki that Mamoru would find appealing. Their warm friendship had always been strange to him, but this...

"I noticed when they were in the hospital. Ibuki would spend a lot of time with Mamoru. They were together on the island all the time, too. I thought they..." She trailed off with a shrug. "But when I asked him, Mamoru just said, no, they were only friends, even though he seemed sad about it..." She smiled into her juice. "So even though it took me by surprise... I'm happy for him. And for Ibuki, if this is what they want."

"Vanguard really does bring people together, huh?" Shion said, his smile matching hers.

"Mmhm."

"Hey." Kazuma came up behind Chrono, looking more sullen than usual. "Any of you seen Director Ibuki? Or Director Anjou? Some of the staff have been looking everywhere for them but can't find them."

"Hey, Tokoha," Shion said loudly, "would you dance with me?"

"Absolutely," Tokoha replied, just as loudly. She grabbed Shion's hand. "Later, Chrono!"

"Wh-wait! Ugh, you two are the worst friends..."

"I feel like I'm missing something," Kazuma said tonelessly.

"You're not the only one," Chrono muttered. His entire evening had been fun, but the past ten minutes were too confusing to think about anymore. He grabbed Kazuma's hand. "Let's dance."

Kazuma didn't protest for long as Chrono dragged him out; apparently the question of where the event's organizers had run off to was of minimal importance compared to making sure Chrono didn't break Kazuma's big toe by stepping on it.

 _Vanguard brings people together,_ Shion said. Chrono had heard it a million times, and he thought about it as Kazuma swore at him for clipping his ankle. Ibuki had a lot of flaws, sure, but...

...maybe it was time even he deserved some happiness, too.


End file.
